


Glass

by Tamsydoodles



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-04 00:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamsydoodles/pseuds/Tamsydoodles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting drunk on somebody's kitchen floor is never <i>really</i> platonic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Set before Maes' death. There's some heavy implications of frick fracking and some hella drunk characters acting way out of character, so be warned.

Night fell hard and fast in the city, late autumn bringing the first frigid gusts and the resignation of another long winter on everyone’s mind. The kitchen window’s curtain was drawn back, bathing Riza’s apartment in slivers of moonlight and long shadows that seemed to dance whenever she moved. Even from the third floor, she could hear the gentle hum of a city still in motion.

The door opened behind her and Riza looked up from the icebox, startled. Only one other person on earth had her key.

“Thought I might drop by,” he muttered, shrugging as if his appearance was purely circumstantial, as if this was his own apartment and he came to drop a few things off before heading to work.

“You can’t stay too long. There’s an important meeting you need to be awake for in the morning,” she replied nonchalantly, pulling out another carrot from the icebox drawer and shutting the door.   
The gentle rhythm of a knife chopping filled the silence, simultaneously awkward and comfortable and Roy couldn’t quite understand how that was possible.

He fished around in one of the cabinets, pulling out two glasses and a half-full bottle of whiskey. 

“I’d rather you didn’t have a hangover, Roy,” she warned gently, scooping up the carrots and dumping them unceremoniously into a hissing pan.

A shrug came in response, followed by a glass that slid across the counter, amber liquid rolling in waves that distorted the surface beneath them. 

“I bought this last week,” he said eventually, staring into the bottle and back up at Riza, eyes narrowed. 

It was her turn to shrug as she pushed around the carrots in the pan and knocked back half the glass in a single swallow. “Keeps my dreams quiet.”

He raised his glass, nodding gently as he replied. 

“I know.”

They fell into silence again, and Riza drew the curtain closed. 

“We’re pretty pathetic, aren’t we?” she murmured, turning off the heat under the carrots and picking up her glass, swirling the drink slowly. 

He chuckled humorlessly and hunched his shoulders, back pressed hard against the wall. “It’s a good thing the Elrics never see us like this.”

“Ed trusts you,” Riza replied, taking another sip. Her eyes met his for a split second, amber flashing with brief purpose. 

“That kid would trust a serial killer if they told him they had the philosopher’s stone.”

She smiled, “I wish you weren’t right.” 

The glass rose to Riza’s lips again as if from habit and she seemed surprised that it was empty. Roy raised the bottle. An invitation she didn’t need.

“Why is it like this?” she murmured, flattening her back against the wall and sliding down it, knees to chest and empty glass on the floor beside her. 

“It doesn’t have to be,” Roy muttered eventually, looking up from his half-empty glass at his lieutenant, “Not for you.”

“You know I’m not going to leave you,” she replied, voice wearly. 

He ran his fingers through his hair for the seventh time that night and sighed, collapsing next to her in a heap of dark blue wool. They sat there for a long time, minutes turning to hours until glass after glass replaced time with something decidedly less quantitative. 

“So,” Roy muttered eventually, breath heavy with alcohol, “we’re both going to be shit-faced tomorrow morning.”

“No shit,” she retorted, jamming her glass in his face. “How long did you have to think about that one?”

He tipped the bottle haphazardly, barely bothering to stop the flow before moving it to top off his own glass. A few drops splashed on the tile, left unnoticed by the pair until Riza’s hand splashed into the puddle a half hour later and wiped it on his shirt with a sly smile. 

Her hand paused over his heart, curling into a loose fistul of cloth as his heart beat. Several seconds passed without breath as she froze, her free hand caught in the air halfway to his face. Ever so slowly, she leaned in closer until he could taste the liquor on her breath mixing with the smell of her shampoo. He closed the gap between them as her eyes closed, pressing his lips to hers briefly before pulling back just enough to whisper to her. 

“We shouldn’t,” he insisted, knowing his words meant little to him and even less to her. Riza opened her eyes slowly and looked him in the eye, her other hand finally touching his cheek and sending shivers down his spine. 

She closed the distance between them again, and this time they broke apart only when they ran out of breath. His hands found the small of her back and he pressed her closer, marveling silently how perfect she felt against him. 

“We shouldn’t,” she repeated eventually, after his shirt hand been unbuttoned and hers had somehow ended up in a crumpled heap across the room. 

Roy only kissed her harder.


End file.
